


are you healed or just distracted

by stark2ash



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Fluff, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25235125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stark2ash/pseuds/stark2ash
Summary: Steve doesn't understand why shaving Tony's beard was such a big deal.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	are you healed or just distracted

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a fun idea and then turned into a more serious thing, as everything I write eventually does. Title from some random pinterest moodboard

A young nurse rapped his hand on the door of the waiting room. “You asked to be notified when he was awake?” He jerked his head back toward the hallway he was standing in. “All of you can come back now.”

Steve stood up, his knees cracking audibly, and shook Clint’s shoulder to wake him up. “Time to go back to the room.” Clint rubbed his eyes, wincing as he brushed a cut on his forehead. Steve’s words seemed to rouse him out of his light sleep, however, and they made their way into the hallway, following the signs for room numbers. Thor and Natasha followed slightly behind, looking only slightly worse for wear.

It had been a relatively simple battle, just a few enhanced individuals who decided to tear up a smaller town outside of the city. Bruce had asked to sit it out – they didn’t need more property damage – and everyone thought that it would be quick and easy. And it had been, for the most part, until one of the guys managed to kick Tony in the chin hard enough to dent the face plate. The suit kept flying, courtesy of J.A.R.V.I.S., who helpfully informed the other Avengers that Mr. Stark was unconscious and would be needing medical attention. They’d wrapped up pretty quickly after that, left the enemies for S.H.E.I.L.D., and made their way to the hospital. After arriving, they hadn’t done much of anything. As Tony’s medical proxy, Steve had to approve a few decisions, but even he hadn’t been allowed to see him yet.

Natasha pushed past Steve, rolling her eyes. “You boys walk too slow.” She led them through the last few turns of their route, then pushed open a door on the left of the hallway, stopping abruptly when she looked inside. “That’s new.”

Steve peeked inside the room, trying to figure out what she meant. Tony was sitting up in bed, holding a hospital mirror that obscured most of his face. “Tony?” Tony looked up, and Steve saw something snap into place in his boyfriend’s eyes. Steve opened his mouth to say something but stopped in shock as Tony lowered the mirror the rest of the way.

“Afternoon, Steven,” Tony said cheerfully, light anger glinting beneath his eyes. “Where the fuck is my beard?”

-

“If they have to shave your face to suture the cut, then they have to do it! I’m not going to let you bleed out from a wound on your chin, for god’s sake!”

“It’s my beard and I do what I want with it!”

“You were unconscious!!”

“My statement stands.”

“You made me your medical proxy!”

“Not so you could let them fucking shave my beard, goddamn it!” Tony pounded a fist on the table beside him, and Steve took a moment to look him over for the first time out of the suit. Apart from the rather obvious stitches on his chin, he had the beginnings of a few bruises, the typical souvenirs from being tossed around in the suit, even with the extra padding. The hospital hadn’t even bothered to hook him up to an IV. In fact, the only thing attached to Tony was a heart rate monitor, which was increasing steadily.

Steve held up his hands, trying to diffuse the argument. “Okay. I’m sorry.” He reached out and took Tony’s hand, interlacing their fingers together. Clint snorted in the background. “Can we resolve this back at the tower? I don’t think any of us here are fond of hospitals.” Tony sighed, but squeezed his hand all the same.

“Wonderful! I will let the man of smiles know that we are to depart immediately!” Thor grinned joyfully, leaving the room in a mission to find the back entrance of the hospital. His cape fluttered behind him, depositing the slightest bit of ash from the fight onto the otherwise clean linoleum flooring. Somewhere outside, a nurse protested loudly, and even Natasha chuckled, throwing her arm around Clint’s shoulders.

“Everything else okay?” Steve brushed his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand, keeping their fingers locked together.

Tony picked up the mirror from the bed where he’d dropped it, and looked down into his reflection. Steve looked down as well, meeting his eyes in the glass. “Fan-fucking-tastic, Steve,” Tony murmured, setting the mirror on the table, face down. He pulled the heart rate monitor from where it was clamped on his finger and stuck his free hand in his pocket. “Never been better.” He motioned to the doorway. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded, and they stepped out of the room together, taking the now familiar stairwell to the employee entrance. If it wasn’t Tony, it was someone else, and there was always one person who wasn’t able to dodge medical (and, in Clint’s case, was usually dragged there by his teammates). As they walked, Steve kept glancing down at his shorter partner, stealing looks at his newly shaved face. It wasn’t a standard Tony Stark look by any means, the mustache with no beard, but for the first time, Steve could see just how _physically_ Tony resembled Howard. He had always been able to see it in the eyes, the hair, the way that they both came alight at the mention of any problem they wanted to solve, but now he could see how much the beard had changed his face shape and made it rounder, less angular. Made him look younger, even. Steve rubbed Tony’s hand with his thumb again, making him look up. “Just glad you’re okay.”

Tony bumped his shoulder into Steve’s softly. “Me too,” he said. “Look, Happy’s waiting for us.” They walked out of the glass doors and towards the car, both looking forward to the drive home.

-

Steve could get used to Tony falling asleep on him. In the hour drive back to the tower, the whole team had relaxed. Thor took up two seats and buckled Mjolnir into the seat where Bruce usually sat, Clint and Natasha leaned against each other as they played an increasingly aggressive game of cards, and Steve leaned back against his own seat, holding Tony’s head in his lap. It was disgustingly domestic, and Tony had complained right up until Steve started running his fingers through his hair. Between the fight and the hospital's meds, he was out in under 10 minutes.

Happy slowly pulled into the Stark Tower garage, and Steve saw Bruce at the door, waiting for them. Natasha, Clint, and Thor exited quickly, eager to rest in places more personal and comfortable than a hotel waiting room, and Steve shook his partner awake. “Time to wake up, Tony. Bruce probably wants to check you out.”

Tony yawned, then winced as the motion pulled at his stitches. “I already went through a full hospital visit, why do I need another one?” Steve got out of the car and held the door for him.

“Probably because you didn’t listen to a word they said, and I need to make sure you’re going to be okay by Tony Stark standards.” Bruce walked toward them, nodding at Steve, and then looked toward Tony, who was just exiting the car. “Oh…”

Tony stood up straighter, his eyes carefully avoiding them both. If Steve had thought the facial hair change made him look younger, he now looked older again, more tired. “I’ll listen to your medical advice, but that’s it. We’re not having that conversation.” Bruce held up his hands in a deescalating manner. “Steve, I’ll meet you upstairs?”

He looked at Steve, his eyes asking him to agree, yet hardened and calculating. Years of worry were evident in the lines of his face. Steve knew how to tell when Tony’s walls were up, knew how to notice when there was something he wasn’t telling him, and how big of a deal it should be. For the first time in their relationship, it looked like he was hiding something big. (Of course, in most life-or-death situations where Tony hid things until the last minute, he was wearing the Iron Man suit, and Steve couldn’t see his eyes. So his reference points could have been a little maladjusted.) But even Bruce looked worried, and like he knew what was up, so there was definitely something he didn’t understand.

“Of course, Tony. I’ll clean myself up, and that should take around the same amount of time.” They all walked towards the set of elevators; as Steve waited for his to take him upstairs, Bruce and Tony got into the one moving towards the lower levels. He could have been mistaken, but Steve thought he heard hushed whispers before the doors closed.

_(“We actually are going to have that conversation.”_

_“Bruce, I swear to god, I’m- “)_

Steve’s elevator arrived, taking him up to their shared suite, and he tried to take his mind off of whatever he just heard. It seemed odd that Tony had brushed him off, when usually they would stay together after missions, but it was likely he was just tired. Their suite was a welcome sight after any battle, but today it felt even more like home. Steve stripped out of his dusty suit and went immediately toward the shower, eager to feel clean after the long day. The water felt warm against his skin, and soon the room was filled with steam and the smell of soap.

He must have taken longer than he was expecting, because when he walked into their bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, Tony was already asleep on the bed, laying on top of the blankets. The stitches on his face were wrapped in a new layer of gauze, courtesy of Bruce, and his mustache that the hospital had kept when they were treating him had been shaved. Steve had never seen his boyfriend bare-faced before, and now with him asleep, he looked much more what he would have imagined Howard’s son to be, before he had actually met Tony. He leaned in and brushed a kiss across Tony’s forehead, and quickly changed into comfortable clothes.

-

When he made his way downstairs for food, Bruce was lounging at the bar, eating a bagel and looking at something on his tablet. No one else was in the kitchen, or sitting on the couches in the connected area. “He asleep?” Bruce said as a way of greeting him.

Steve nodded, rummaging through the fridge until he found what he was looking for. “Yep, probably as soon as he got to our room. Did you give him something or was he just extra tired?” He pulled out a carton of eggs and a green pepper, placing them on the counter.

“A combination of both,” Bruce said, putting down his tablet. “The meds the hospital gave him cause drowsiness, but I’m willing to bet that he’s just exhausted. Had to calm him down in the elevator for a second.”

Steve’s senses immediately shifted to worry. “He seemed pretty calm in the car, what happened?” Bruce put his head in his hands, as if trying to get rid of a headache. “Was is something about the injury?”

The other man sighed, and looked at his bagel. “I’m not sure if-“

“Bruce, please, I need to look out for him. If there’s anything I should know, please tell me.”

Bruce took a bite of his food before answering. “I’m sure you noticed how much his appearance changed without the beard.” He looked at Steve, waiting for him to make some sort of connection.

Steve cracked an egg into a pan, watching as it sizzled in the heat. “He looked like Howard. A lot like Howard.” Bruce leaned back in his chair, letting him talk. “I’d forgotten how much of a family resemblance there was, especially because I never got to see them side by side.” There was so much he missed during his time in the ice. Howard, Peggy, all of the Howling Commandos had lived full lives without him, and he was still trying to be okay with everything that had happened.

Bruce must have understood his thought process, because his eyes softened. “Look, Steve, even if you had been there, they weren’t together often.” His fingers fidgeted. “Some fathers aren’t perfect. Some are far from it.”

He pushed the eggs around in the pan while he went over Bruce’s words. He knew Bruce’s history, knew that it was something he didn’t bring up lightly, but that’s not what he was talking about. “But… I’m sure Howard would have been an okay father. We were friends. He was a good man.” Memories of the brief time they knew each other ran through his mind – getting his shield, working together with Peggy, the airplane ride to save Bucky – surely he would extend the same kindness to his wife and children?

“We haven’t talked about much,” Bruce said, shaking his head, “and even if we had, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you. But he saw his reflection in the elevator and seemed almost sick at the sight of it. Shaved the mustache off the second the doors opened.” He finished his bagel, and walked around towards Steve to put his plate in the dishwasher. “Wouldn’t talk about it, just let me patch him up and went straight upstairs.”

He took a moment to wrap his head around that. Yeah, Tony had looked incredibly like his father when he was released from the hospital, but was there any other reason he would have hated his reflection? 

Tony never talked about his father. Only mentioned him when Steve had a question about the past. There were no pictures of his family anywhere in the tower, and definitely not in their bedroom. He had talked about the pressure and scrutiny he felt when he was growing up, but Steve had always thought that it was from the media, not from someone close by. And the little comments he always made about not wanting to be like his father, which he always thought were normal. Most people didn’t want to be the same as their parents, right? All of his previous assumptions pointed towards a different conclusion.

“I was friends with him.” Steve’s eggs were burning, and he had completely forgotten to chop the pepper. A wave of shame rolled over him. He was the one who brought this on, he was the reason Tony had to look in the mirror and see something awful. “And then I gave the okay to shave the beard, I should have known better, I-“

“Steve.” Bruce’s voice helped calm him, and he shut off the stove. “The beard had to go, it was a medical emergency. And talking about these things is difficult in the best of situations. It’s probably harder when your partner was best friends with him 70 years ago.”

Logically, Steve knew that Tony was vague about his past at best, but he always answered Steve’s questions about Howard and Peggy when he asked. How much pain had Steve unknowingly caused? Why hadn’t he seen the signs earlier? The tightness in his eyes, how he ground his teeth together briefly before answering – every miniscule movement that indicated the shift from boyfriend to the mask he used for the press, concealed by Steve’s interest in the story and how no paparazzi would ever ask anything so intricately personal. The way Tony always sat through Steve’s war stories that Howard appeared in, and didn’t even flinch when Steve said it would have been great to see him as a father.

Steve walked out of the kitchen, whispering a quick thank you to Bruce and leaving his food behind. Did he know Tony as well as he thought?

 _Stop_ , he told himself. No use in going through every ‘what if’ scenario from the time they met. He would ask Tony about it, and not talk to their friends behind his back, even if the conversation with Bruce had been enlightening and very much needed.

When he got back to their room, however, Tony was still asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. His lightly tanned skin contrasted harshly with the dark blue stitches on his chin, but he looked otherwise healthy, something that could not always be said of the chronic insomniac. _I’ll talk to him later_ , Steve thought. For now, it was time for the nap he had so wanted earlier. Carefully settling down on his side of the bed, Steve laid next to Tony, trying not to disturb the sleeping man. He took his hand in his own, feeling the warmth of Tony’s fingers, and held it, closing his eyes and allowing himself to sink into his pillow.

“I’m sorry, and I love you,” he whispered, and squeezed Tony’s hand. It would be okay. They would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This was finished quickly and barely edited, because I hated it just sitting around, unfinished, in a word doc. Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
